Muffins, Quills and Roses
by tegmel
Summary: Boys will be boys no matter what house they are from. New friendships bring new problems. Set during the trio's 6th year.  Muffins for anyone who can pick where this is going! AU but some HBP plot points apply.
1. Chapter 1: Breakfast

_A/N: Hi everyone. I'd just like to point out this is (obviously) AU, but several major plot points from HBP are still intact. I don't think that I will need to point them out, but I will if anyone is confused. this fic is one i'm writing for a current fic exchange challenge, and I have never ever, ever published online before, usually my friend and I just do this for our own pleasure, but I thought I would just this once :) also i'm not sure where this stpry is going in regards to ships but as you will see if you keep reading, there is set up for quite a few. If you want a particular one, review and let me know and i'll see if that direction is an option..._

_Disclaimer: J.K Rowling's Characters/ Worlds, just stepping in to play with her toys._

_sorry for long note!_

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Chapter1: Breakfast

It had been another late night study session for most of the 6th years, there were yawning faces scattered across the great hall. Even Hermione, at the Gryffindor table, who was nothing if not used to late nights and pouring over old tomes, looked a little sleepy that morning.

"This is rubbish!" Ron grumbled sleepily, "This isn't even an exam year and I reckon we are studying harder than the O.W.L and the N.E.W.T students combined!"

"We have to catch up on what we missed last year, Ronald, and even if our exams aren't until next year, we are still preparing for N.E.W.Ts ourselves." Hermione primly responded, hardly needing her red-haired friend to say what the 6th years were all thinking.

"We did miss a lot, Ron, because of Umbridge and all." Harry nodded in Ron's direction as he buttered a piece of toast. "And it is a lot easier than meeting in secret like we did in the D.A"

"Yeah, but it's in _every_ bloody subject! Not just bloody defence against the bloody dark arts!" Ron slumped, having used as much energy as he had that morning, to argue the point.

Neville, who had remained quiet up until this point as was his like, dumped a muffin on Ron's plate, and as the freckled boy happily began to munch on the offering, spoke up quietly.

"Maybe the professors are thinking ahead, my Gran reckons we should take every opportunity to learn while we still can."

"Thinking ahead?" Lavender interjected, "how is making sure we are all too tired to do _anything_, thinking ahead?"

Pavarti nodded in agreement.

"I for one would like to think ahead to something a little more fun, rather than all this school work, if all the previous years got by without the extra workload I can't see why we have to go all out." Dean said, glancing at Ginny who was a few seats away, listening.

"Maybe we won't be back at Hogwarts next year, if you-know-who has his way that is, and I don't know about all of you," Neville paused and looked around at his Gryffindor year mates seriously, "I'd much rather be prepared when the time comes to really fight and really isn't that the reason we all joined the D.A in the first place?" He nodded at Harry and continued; "So that we weren't caught out unprepared and unable to protect ourselves and those who can't protect themselves?" he glanced in the direction of the Gryffindor first years. "So now we are being given the opportunity to openly learn what we need to, in every subject, because really, it could be our last chance." Neville finished, and realising that most of the nearby students were looking at him in various states of shock and seriousness, flushed and stared down at his hands. "It's just what I think anyway."

Harry stared at Neville, open –mouthed. "I can't believe how we have been complaining and not thinking about it like you have, Neville. I've been so stupid, and you are right, as hard as all of this extra work may be, we are preparing for a war and I would much prefer to know what I'm doing instead of just bumbling along."

"Oh Harry! But you haven't just been 'bumbling along', last year you were great, you helped us all so much and truly I think Snape is surprised how much we 'suddenly' seem to know when it comes to defence against the dark arts" Hermione interjected, chagrined after listening to Neville say what she had not thought of herself. "Neville is right though, and maybe if we all help each other out, we will all get through this."

"Just our house? Or should we invite the other 6th Years too?" Seamus asked.

"Just us for now I reckon, otherwise there would be too many distractions and we wouldn't get anything done." Dean said, knowing exactly who Seamus was thinking of.

"Like a study group version of the D.A, except instead of Harry to help us out, it will be Hermione the professor of study!" Ron said enthusiastically, having finished the many muffins that had been donated by his table mates to keep him quiet.

Lavender giggled, like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard anyone say.

Hermione ignored her pointedly, "Now I know what you are thinking Ron, and I am certainly not going to be doing your work for you! So if you even ask me I will hex you! I have enough of my own work to keep up with!" her doe eyes softened as she looked at the indignant redhead, "but I will help anyone who is actually willing to put the effort in."

"At least we won't have any trouble when it comes to potions." Harry said.

Hermione glared at him. "I won't help anyone that wants to cheat."

"Cheat?" Lavender asked, her eyes still laughing.

"Never mind Lav, no Gryffindor would ever cheat anyway." Ron said patting her on the arm as Hermione rolled her eyes.

Seamus eyed Ron and Lavender thoughtfully, his mouth full.

"I guess that depends on your definition of cheating." Hermione said loftily, turning back to her own breakfast.

"So when are we going to start this then?" Neville asked, having recovered from his mortification at being the centre of attention.

"Tonight. Library. 8pm?" Harry suggested, looking at Hermione for confirmation.

"Don't you lot have that stupid meeting thing tonight?" Ron asked sullenly.

"I am more than happy to miss it, I'm sure we can think of some excuse to give Professor Slughorn, can't we Hermione?" Harry asked her, seeking forgiveness in her eyes.

"Alright then, 8pm in the library it is." Hermione said out loud. Leaning closer to Harry she added "If you leave that textbook behind that is."

"Can I come too?" Ginny, who had been following the conversation with interest, leaned down the table to ask.

"Oh Gin, I was kind of, sort of hoping that you could help cover for us at the Slug Club meeting." Harry said apologetically.

Ginny Harrumphed.

"If you _could_ cover for us that would be fantastic," Hermione added, "and the next one we schedule, we can make sure it doesn't clash."

Ginny, only slightly mollified, agreed.

"I can't wait." Lavender winked at a grinning Ron.

"This will not be a make out session!" Hermione snapped, "If you aren't going to participate properly, bloody stay behind in the common room and eat each others faces off in there!"

There were many gasps of shock. Dean and Seamus guffawed at Hermione's outburst.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, completely thrown by her language.

Ron merely looked mystified as Hermione pointedly began an unrelated conversation with a surprised Neville.

Harry shrugged at no one in particular, as he crammed another muffin in his mouth.

* * *

"Pans, would you mind moving just a little bit?" Draco, exasperated, turned to the Slytherin girl, who was practically in his lap, and severely impeding his intention to eat breakfast. 

She gaped at him.

"I'd quite like my leg back, it is a bit numb, and really I'm much too _tired_ to do anything" he paused as he mentally decided what to start with, "apart from eat."

Pansy blushed.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed.

Draco, having made a decision, proceeded to eat, ignoring everyone.

There was silence at the Slytherin table.

* * *

Luna Lovegood, over at the Ravenclaw table decided the heavy quiet from the Slytherins, was uncanny and eerie, and delightedly decided to watch, munching on an apple.

* * *

The reason for the quiet was simple. The first and second years, although generally rowdy, were silent because the upper year students were. The third and fourth Year Slytherins, most of whom had experienced the 'Wrath of Draco' were keeping to whispers and munching because Draco very obviously was not in the mood for conversation, his own or anyone else's. The fifth and seventh years, were silently revising for their approaching exams, snoozing on the table, thinking about the upcoming war and were generally disinclined to talk except in muted tones. The 6th year Slytherins, even more so than the Gryffindors, were exhausted from their unusually heavy workload. 

Professor Snape had been holding extra classes with the sixth years in his house, in both Defence against the dark arts and his old subject, potions. The revision was extensive; Snape was preparing them for upcoming classwork in both subjects, giving them an advantage while he had the time to spare. Soon enough his sixth years would have to fend for themselves, while he focussed on the O.W.L and N.E.W.T students.

The 'Wrath of Draco' was a strange thing indeed. To the Slytherins who knew the signs of it brewing, it meant to keep out of his way and not to draw his attention. To the other houses, it manifested itself a lot more oddly, Draco was being _nice_.

The Slytherins knew however, that when everything with Malfoy was alright , he enjoyed flinging sarcastic and insulting remarks around, he chose them carefully, and he delivered each and every insult filled with loving scorn. And if one had a run in with Malfoy while he was content and in control it really meant very little. It was normal. It was the way of things. It was Slytherin. It was Malfoy.

But when he was tired or truly angry or agitated, he did not put so much care into spitting venomous words or smirking languidly. He was truer, he was nicer, and so whenever he was distracted like this, it meant a run in with him would be worse or it could be wonderful, Because everything was truer, his anger, his strength, his cunning even his compliments. It was this unpredictability that the Slytherins avoided, mean or nice, when he was being Draco and not just a Malfoy he could be bloody scary when it came right down to it.

* * *

Draco eyed Pansy who was sulking after he had admonished her, and decided that it would be worse for him if she stayed in that particular mood. He stopped eating and turned to look at her. 

Pansy, somewhat embarrassed and hurt, and as tired as the rest of them, blushed as Draco's full regard fell on her. She turned slowly to him, expecting him to say something.

He only looked at her. And then, unexpectedly, like sunshine breaking through the clouds, he smiled at her. And gently reached out, briefly squeezing her hand.

Being Pansy, she held back a squeal and moved slightly closer to him again, her leg pressing up against his own. She held her breath.

Being Draco, he merely ignored her, and unencumbered this time, turned back to his breakfast.

* * *

Luna began to sing under her breath. 

Agitated glances were thrown at her by her nearest tablemates.

She was distracted from her observation of the Slytherin table by a muffin hitting her in the head and bouncing off, landing on her plate.

"Oh! Thank you!" she called up to the rafters sweetly.

* * *

Blaise cleared his throat, looking at Draco. 

Draco ignored him.

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances.

Draco ignored them.

Daphne and Millicent stared at him.

Draco ignored them.

Pansy pressed her leg against his briefly, not looking at him.

For her at least, he spared a glance, smirking.

As students began to get up and leave the great hall, he turned to her and ever so gently, kissed a surprised Pansy on the cheek, before walking away from the table himself, not looking back at any of them.

* * *

"Did you bloody see that?!" Ron looked disgusted "Bloody Malfoy just kissed Parkinson on the cheek, in front of everyone, while we are trying to eat!" 

Hermione rose from the table.

"Firstly Ron, In case you haven't noticed breakfast is over, so no one is trying to eat."

Seamus pointed at the almost empty Ravenclaw table. "Hermione, she's still eating."

They all looked at Luna, sitting alone at her table, joyfully eating a muffin.

Ignoring Luna, Hermione continued angrily "Secondly, Malfoy and _her _have been together for quite a while now, and I for one am quite surprised that Malfoy would be such a gentleman with a chaste peck on the cheek as opposed to a slobbery face sucking mess that others are prone to."

Pavarti giggled madly at this, her eyes darting between Lavender and Ron.

"But Hermione, slobbery face sucking is so much more fun, even if it _is_ messy!" Lavender said sweetly, by now fed up with Hermione's digs, "or don't you know?"

Hermione clenched her jaw and stalked away from the table without a backward glance.


	2. Chapter 2: Potions

Chapter 2: Potions

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Because if you don't stir anti-clockwise three times while you are adding the unicorn hair the potion drinker's hair will turn green."

"Correct, 5 points for Slytherin."

Draco turned towards Pansy and quietly added.

"Its not a nice Slytherin green either, more like the colour the Weasels face went that time when I got him vomiting slugs."

Pansy Giggled.

Hermione, who had overheard this, rolled her eyes.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione snapped her attention back to Professor Slughorn.

"Miss Granger what happens when the unicorn hair and the dried newt is added in excess?"

Hermione's mind drew an unfortunate and untimely blank.

Malfoy smirked, raising his hand. "Professor Slughorn? The Mu- Granger was telling me about this before class, if the amounts are added in excess, the potion will turn orange and will no longer have the desired effects, instead it will merely make the potion drinker believe anything anyone tells him at all and not just what the potion maker specifies."

"Correct, is that what you said Miss Granger? Can you add anything else to that?"

Her memory jogged, Hermione nodded adding "Yes Professor, which is why the potion can only be made under the strictest supervision. If made correctly the potion is a pale yellow. And either way, correctly or incorrectly brewed the effects will only last for a few days at the most and ideally just a few minutes, enough time to tell someone the thing they should believe."

"Excellent! Mr Malfoy how long does it take to brew this potion?"

"If brewed correctly it takes around six hours to brew, incorrectly, only around four hours. Also if it is brewed correctly, there is no counter-potion it must wear off on its own, whereas if it is brewed the illegal and unintended way, there is a potion to nullify the effects."

"And can anyone tell me what the counter-potion is called?"

Harry who had been reading his potions text book, furiously trying to decipher the scrawled additions, raised his hand.

"Discreditaserum, sir…and uh you can use it on its own as well."

"Very good Potter 10 points for Gryffindor!"

Draco made a face, glancing at Hermione who gritted her teeth together agitatedly.

* * *

"You shouldn't use that book Harry, it's unfair, you didn't even know what the potion was, and yet Professor Slughorn actually thinks you followed perfectly. I _saw_ you trying to keep up!" Hermione accused Harry as the Trio left the Potions classroom. 

"Lighten up 'mione, he got us points." Ron said, tiredly.

"Well he shouldn't have, it was Malfoy and I who answered the questions about the Tenet-agonista serum."

"Malfoy got points as well!" Ron said heatedly.

"Not as many though, and Harry's answer about the Discreditaserum required a lot less thought! Its unfair how he favours you Harry." Hermione exclaimed.

"That part is true at least." Ron allowed.

"Well its not like I asked for all this attention, I don't want to be in his stupid Slug Club!" Harry defended himself.

"This isn't even about the Slug Club Harry! I don't want to be in it either! I'm talking about the fact that he thinks you are the greatest thing to happen to potions since the beginning of time!"

"You are just jealous, because for once Know-It-All Hermione Granger isn't the only one getting recognition!" Harry responded.

"I don't mind sharing recognition with people who earn it! Like Malfoy, he obviously knows what he's on about!" Hermione

"That's another thing, Hermione, don't think we didn't notice! What was up with him covering for you?! You didn't speak to Malfoy before class about that stupid bloody potion." Harry accused.

"Yeah!" Ron said, unsure now what was going on, but not liking the direction the argument was taking.

"He was covering for me because unlike some people he seems to have matured! Shock – horror! He distracted me and obviously felt bad about it, so until I knew what Professor Slughorn was on about he answered and in doing so jogged my memory!"

"You're in _league_ with him?" Ron asked gaping at her in shock.

"Don't be stupid, Ronald!"

"I'm not bloody stupid, Hermione! Just because Professor Slughorn wants you two in his Stupid bloody Slug Club, and Bloody Ginny as well, it doesn't mean I am stupid! He just doesn't get it, he doesn't think that I helped you Harry, and I help, I do help! I am there for you whenever you need me, just because I don't bloody know everything and I don't bloody care to _be_ an insufferable know-it-all."

He gestured rudely at Hermione then turned to a shocked Harry, " Harry you aren't as unspeakably brave as everyone bloody says, I know, because I was there every single time, and I was just as bloody scared as you and at least I had the guts to admit it when I was! And it's true what she says anyway, you shouldn't use that book!"

"You are being a bloody git Ron; you have used it as well. You are a hypocrite! I bloody well know that you were there, I wanted you there! I still bloody want you there! When it comes down to it I need both of you and I never have denied that! I need all the help I can get, so what's so wrong with using this book if I need it? And this Slug Club thing is a bloody joke, don't go thinking that we want to be there, Ginny doesn't, I don't and neither does Hermione!" Harry shouted at his friend.

"And before you go crazy again, think about it, Malfoy isn't in it either, and if it was about who is smart and stupid well he would be in it and you still wouldn't be." Hermione added, still smarting at the rude gestured Ron had aimed at her.

Ron turned to a tearful, indignant Hermione.

"you're in _league_ with him!"

Ron stormed off, purple with anger shouting as he walked about bloody Malfoy and so called best friends and who bloody likes slugs anyway?

Hermione and Harry just stared after Ron for a while, both breathing heavily.

"You know Malfoy is up to something Hermione."

Hermione just turned away from Harry in disgust.

"I _am_ a know-it-all remember? I never once said I trusted him, I question his motives for helping me, but if he has finally decided to grow up, I'm not going to hold all this immature rubbish against him. Besides this is the only time he's ever done anything remotely nice and he's probably going to try to blackmail me with it." Hermione looked at Harry, "Although it would be nice if he didn't."

"I'm sorry..."

Hermione looked at Harry sharply.

"No, you aren't."

"…About Ron." Harry continued.

"What about him? That he wants to be in that stupid slug club? That he has an unhealthy obsession with Malfoy, that he can't have a civilised conversation without stalking off in a huff?"

"I'm sorry that he's with Lavender, Hermione." Harry clarified.

Hermione burst into tears.

"They don't even talk or anything, he's treating her as a _thing_ and she bloody loves it, and why? If he is going to go off and be with someone, why can't it be a real relationship? Because do you know something Harry? It makes me feel like nothing! That a meaningless fling is worth more to him that a meaningful future with someone who loves him more than anything or anyone!"

Harry simply put his arms around her and let her cry on his shoulder. His school robes soon damp with her angry tears.

After a few minutes Harry spoke, curious.

"Do you really think we three were having a civilised conversation?"

Hermione shuddered, and soon she was laughing into the damp patch left by her tears.

"It will be okay, won't it?" she asked him, meaning the thing between Ron and Lavender

"Yeah, it will." Harry answered, meaning the friendship between the three of them.


	3. Chapter 3: 8pm

A/N: sorry this chappie and the last are shorter, it wasnt originally divided into chapters at all, and plotwise this is the way it split itself. hopes you like it

* * *

Chapter 3: 8pm

Daphne was in a mood.

Draco and bloody Pansy.

It was always bloody Pansy.

Pansy! Pansy! Pansy!

She looked across the common room, watching them sourly.

It had happened last year. Not the relationship that everyone thought, but a genuine, honest-to-goodness friendship. It was so _Gryffindor_ of them.

Right now however, they were being infuriatingly, nauseatingly Hufflepuff. They were huddled close, sharing one oversized armchair and sharing a book. Draco, the faster reader, would finish the page, and turn his head and watch Pansy read, she would smile and upon reaching the end of the page, turn it without looking at him.

Blaise periodically looked up at them and laugh softly to himself before returning to his sketching.

And that was another bloody thing.

She had taken a sneaky glance at his drawings in fourth year. Not one, not ONE had been of her. Pansy… Draco… Crabbe and Goyle… Goyle alone… Draco…. Pansy and Draco... A self portrait of Blaise... Pansy…Millicent and Draco… Millicent and Pansy... Snape… And even one of Hermione bloody Granger with her friend Ginevra Weasley.

But none of Daphne.

She saw Blaise was looking at her now. She glared at him. Then, hoping he might be drawing her after all, flashed a smile. He recoiled and shook himself, he had never, after all, seen Daphne Greengrass smile.

Malfoy had.

She used to smile at him like that all the time.

Daphne and Malfoy had had an understanding. He understood that she didn't understand him, and he didn't understand why she wanted him to understand her.

She was constantly explaining herself to him. He even stopped asking, and eventually, talking to her altogether.

Very occasionally he would catch her eye and smirk at her, not a genuine smile like he saved for Pansy. But a Malfoy smirk. Because he bloody well knew, the git, that she would sink lower than any other to get what she wanted. And she wanted to be with him.

* * *

"Quickly Harry, we should be in the library by now." Hermione tugged on Harry's arm.

Harry was looking at the marauders map, trying to spot Draco Malfoy.

"I know, I just don't trust him Hermione."

"Well he is right there in his common room, with Parkinson and his loyal followers. And look everyone is there waiting for us in the library," She paused, continuing in a small voice, "even Ron."

Harry looked at the map, Ron's name and Lavender's were somewhat overlapped, he closed the map hurriedly.

"Mischief managed. Alright then let's go."

* * *

Blaise sketched furiously, glancing occasionally at Daphne to check he was capturing her right. She looked forlorn. There was really no other way to say it. It was the most interesting he had ever seen her.

And Blaise suddenly found himself interested.

He blushed, eliciting a curious glance from Draco, then realising the time, excused himself.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Where are you going, Zabini?"

"Slug club," Blaise replied, getting a kick out of the brief flash of jealousy on Malfoy's face. "Should be fun."

As Blaise left the common room, Malfoy snarled, rose abruptly, startling Pansy, who dropped the book they had been reading.

He stalked to his dorm room, swishing past Daphne, without saying anything.

Millicent shrugged and turned to Goyle who was sitting nearby. "Least he's back to normal."

Goyle grunted in agreement, eyes on the door Malfoy had just left through.

"I like him better when he's nice." He said, thoughtfully.

* * *

"It was 8 o'clock, right?" Pavarti turned in her seat and looked at Neville.

"It was definitely 8 o'clock, I know because 8 is my favourite number." Neville responded quietly.

"It was the library, right?" Seamus, slumped forward chin resting on the table, arms hanging by his legs.

"It was most definitely the library. It is the best place to study after all." Neville nodded.

They all sat in silence.

"Can we start without them?" Dean asked nobody in particular.

Neville nodded and flipped open his text book.

"I'll help you with herbology, Dean if you give me a hand with Transfiguration. And maybe you might be able to help Seamus with charms, since you seem to be pretty good at that, Pavarti." Neville suggested quietly.

"Who should I help?" Seamus asked grinning.

"Well you have better notes than I do for history of magic, could I borrow them?" Pavarti asked.

"I'll just help Ron…um look for a book…over here." Lavenders voice echoed from the shelves.

Pavarti giggled. Dean guffawed.

"Are Harry and 'Mione here then?" Ron's voice was suspiciously muffled.

The Gryffindors at the table looked at each other.

"I think maybe they couldn't get out of that thing with Professor Slughorn, Ron." Neville ventured, "So we figured we would get started without them."

"Are you two planning on joining us?" a giggling Pavarti asked.

Ron didn't answer.

Neither did Lavender.

* * *

"Ah there you are, Harry! Hermione!" Professor Slughorn enthused as they rounded a corner. He turned to the distressed Gryffindor at his heels, "See Ginevra, they are perfectly fine, can't be too overwhelmed with all their hard work If they are off gallivanting about, not in bed like you thought!"

Ginny made an apologetic face to her Housemates, shrugging helplessly.

"We had been sleeping, Professor, when Ginny left, but we woke up," Hermione smiled consolingly at Ginny, "and now we are here."

"Ah, yes I see! Sometimes a quick nap is just the thing! Come then, perhaps Mr. Zabini will be in my office when we get back." Slughorn turned and walked back the way he and Ginny had come, gesturing grandly for the three of them to follow.

"I am sorry! I truly didn't expect him to bring me back to wake you! I guess I would have said something about not being able to, or you lot taking sleeping potions or something, but I did try!"

"S'okay Ginny, I'm sure the others won't mind." Harry smiled at the agitated redhead, who obviously felt bad that she hadn't managed to cover for them.

"It wasn't your fault that we ran into you here anyway; we really should have been more careful." Hermione consoled her friend.

"Well I guess we might as well try enjoy ourselves, Slug Club here we come!" Ginny responded, cheered.

* * *

"Malfoy, are you okay?" Crabbe looked up as Malfoy stormed into the dormitory.

"I am perfectly fine." Malfoy snapped, "Who asked you anyway?"

He flopped onto his bed and ignored his friend.

He wasn't even sure why he wanted to be invited to the stupid slug club in the first place. It had nothing to do with anything, he certainly didn't need the connections, as a Malfoy he already had the best kind.

Draco sighed.

He wanted a distraction. This bloody task was too big for him and it made him realise, suddenly, how good he had it and what he might lose. His lip curled in disgust at himself. If bloody Potter was in his shoes, he wouldn't be nearly as alone as Draco was feeling, he had his bookworm girlfriend and his weasel sidekick to help him out. And Draco knew, in a vaguely jealous sort of way, that they would do anything to help their boy wonder.

Right then and there Draco made a decision. He didn't really need to be alone after all.

"Crabbe?"

Vincent raised his head to look at Draco curiously. "Yeah?"

"Sorry for snapping at you."

"S'okay." The response was lukewarm, cautious.

Draco sighed. It would be a hard task, he knew, to get his friends to really be his friends.

Draco's friends. Not Malfoy's friends.


	4. Chapter 4: Muffins

Chapter 4: Muffins

"Really Neville, we are sorry about missing the study session." Hermione said for the third time that morning.

Harry nodded.

"Its fine, really, we got along with it. Dean, Seamus, Pavarti, Lavander, Ron and I, paired up and helped each other out."

"I was with Ron." Lavender drawled, batting her eyelashes at Hermione, who pointedly ignored her.

"What subjects did you cover?" Hermione asked.

"Well we just kind of figured out what each of our worst and best subjects are, and went from there. I guess we can fill in the middle ground if we get the chance."

Harry stared at Neville admiringly. Secure with his friends, Neville had developed a surprising strength since he had been involved in the drama with the prophecy the year before.

He was not smarter, stronger, faster, funnier, more handsome, or more charming than he had always been. Only more confident, and really, to Harry, that seemed to be enough.

That was the only thing Harry ever had problems with himself, moments of doubt. And when he shared his doubts with Hermione and Ron, they did not dissuade him. They usually shared his doubts, and went on with him anyway, all doubting together, and yet still pulling through, there when he needed them the most.

Neville didn't see himself as particularly confident. And truly he still had moments of extreme mortification, but he inspired confidence in Harry. And he was confident that their cause was _right_. And all of that meant, to Harry, that he couldn't discount Neville. Longbottoms were, after all extremely faithful and loyal.

And Neville was getting pretty good at duelling too, after all the D.A practice the previous year.

Harry glanced down the table; Ginny was smiling sweetly in his direction. He blushed, then realising Dean was sitting next to him, talking with Seamus, looked away.

Hermione, catching this, exchanged significant looks with Harry.

* * *

Luna wasn't watching the Slytherins today. Instead she was watching the lovely 7th year Cho Chang.

She was quiet, sitting with her friend Marietta. The two of them leaned towards each other, shutting out everyone else, both outcasts, Marietta the sneak and Cho, who despite her relationship with Harry the year before, still carried an aura of sadness and serenity about her like a cloak.

People shied away from her because every movement she made spoke of Cedric, a constant and unrelenting reminder that the Dark Lord had indeed returned.

Luna began to hum softly under her breath, exclaiming in surprise when another muffin hit her, this time in the chin and bounced on the floor. Luna immediately dove under the table to retrieve the errant muffin, still humming her odd little song.

"What on earth..?"

"Hey!"

"What is Loony doing?"

Ravenclaw students were half-rising from their seats, or peering under the table in consternation, as Luna crawled over their feet. Spotting the muffin she curled a hand around it and looked up, her light eyes meeting Cho's dark ones.

There was a pause.

"Muffin?" Luna offered.

Cho smiled and reached out her hand.

* * *

"They call her loony for a reason." Ron said around a mouthful of food, gesturing with his chin at the ruckus at the Ravenclaw table.

"She's a nice sort of crazy though." Lavender mused, Ron's arm about her shoulder.

Harry made a sound.

They all looked as Cho helped Luna, who was clutching a muffin, from under the table.

Luna smiled serenely and fit herself in the narrow space between Cho and Terry Boot. Marietta, head down, did not look at Luna, or at Boot, both of whom had been in the D.A.

Luna leaned past Cho and said something to Marietta, eliciting a small smile, and shake off her head.

Luna seemingly satisfied at this sat up straight, muffin still clutched to her chest, eyes glazing over dreamily.

* * *

Draco chewed thoughtfully, watching the Golden Trio, her were not huddled together as closely as usual. Potter was sitting across from Granger who was next to Finnegan on one side and Longbottom on the other. Dean Thomas was next to Harry and across from Seamus, Lavender next, then the weasel across from his sister, the Weaselette, who was next to Pavarti Patil.

It was odd. He had barely ever seen Potty and the Weasel so far away from each other. He had often thought they might even share the same bed in their dorm. But the way Brown was hanging all over the Weasel threw that theory out the window. He grunted in amusement when he noticed Granger shooting daggers at Lavender, and wished he was close enough to really appreciate it. Obviously Granger was a prude and didn't appreciate the affectionate display Lavender was bestowing on a grinning Ronald Weasley.

She was a lot like Pansy actually, when he thought about it. Lavender Brown wasn't a bad catch at all; maybe a little vapid and not the smartest of the bunch, but not stupid either. The two were equally as involved in the Gossip department, both shopped excessively, albeit Pansy with greater funds at her disposal. Fun girls though, the both of them.

If he was Weasley's friend he would be congratulating him, not alienating him the way Potter and Granger both seemed to be doing.

Draco stopped, shocked at his last thought; _Friends_ with a Weasley? He snorted.

"Off my rocker."

"What was that Draco?" Pansy asked her friend, bewildered.

"Nothing Pans." He replied, irked at himself for speaking out loud.

* * *

"No, Luna you can't _actually_ eat that it's been on the floor!" Terry Boot exclaimed grinning as he grabbed for the wayward muffin.

She eyed him curiously.

He snagged it from her hand and neatly switched it with his own, fresh, untainted muffin.

Her eyes turned to regard the new muffin in her hand with delight.

Turning back to a thoroughly amused Boot, Luna cocked her head.

"Were you up there yesterday morning?" she pointed to the rafters.

* * *

"Sit with me today?" Draco asked Blaise, as those Slytherins who took it, walked as a group to their transfiguration lesson.

"Sure, Malfoy." Blaise responded, too shocked to say anything more.

Pansy whispered something in Draco's ear.

"I know I promised. I'll do it when I get the chance Pans." Draco said, rolling his eyes at her whispered reminder.

She smiled gratefully and pushed past him to walk with Daphne in front of the two Slytherin boys.

"What does she want?" Blaise asked curious, but not really expecting an answer.

"Oh she likes someone and wants me to put a note on his desk in my next lesson." Draco waved his hand airily, "I'll do it of course, although I think she's being a bloody idiot about it all."

Blaise did a comical little double-take. "Meaning she doesn't like _you_?"

"Oh she likes me alright. Same as I like her." Draco turned to Blaise. "You truly thought we were still together? We tried all that in fourth year and part of fifth and really, it was the oddest thing, suddenly we didn't get along anymore. Things are much better now that we are friends."

Blaise snorted.

"We are!" Draco insisted.

"Everyone thinks the two of you are going at it like rabbits."

"Well…we are." Draco allowed, a trademark smirk finding its way to his face.

"That explains that then." Blaise nodded.

"Explains what?"

"Daphne…" Blaise started.

"Yeah." Draco nodded.

"You two were together for a few months at the end of fifth year right?"

"I never shagged Daphne Greengrass." Draco answered the unspoken question.

"Good to know, Malfoy." A giggly voice piped in.

Lavender Brown and Ron Weasley arm in arm had come up behind the two Slytherins. Pavarti Patil playing third wheel, at Lavender's side.

"There goes another scintillating addition to Lav's List of who has shagged who at Hogwarts." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Scintillating? _Four_ syllables? Impressive Weasel!" Blaise drawled in a creditably Malfoy way.

"You would make a fortune rivalling my own if you published something like that." Draco said, winking at Lavender, "Everyone wants to know about my love life after all."

Ron snorted.

Grey eyes turned to regard him.

"And are you on that list Weasley?"

Lavender's giggles were enough for Draco. She sped off arm in arm with Pavarti whispering loudly and leaving her boyfriend standing with his most hated adversary.

"Sod off, Malfoy." Ron responded, unable to stop a grin from covering his freckled face.

"Good job mate she's a right catch." Draco said admiration creeping into his voice.

"I'd give her one." Blaise agreed, mildly.

Ron bristled at that but was interrupted before he could do anything stupid.

"One of what? And to whom?" Hermione asked curiously when she, Harry and Neville reached the three boys.

"A quill, to you, Granger, if you ever need a good one that is." Draco said smirking at Ron, who surprisingly, smirked back.

Neville's eyes widened as the unnatural expression crossed Ron's face.

"That's alright Malfoy, if Hermione ever needs a good Quill, I'll give it to her." Harry said, puzzled.

"I'm sure you will." Draco responded, politely. "Blaise, we better not be late to class, come on."

The two Slytherins, holding their sides in suppressed laughter, swept off to their lesson, leaving a strangely smirking Ron, a curious Hermione and puzzled Harry and Neville to follow in their wake.


	5. Chapter 5: Quills

Chapter 5: Quills

"He's _definitely_ up to something, Hermione."

"He was just offering me a quill Harry."

"No, he was talking with Zabini and Ron about giving you a quill, that's what he said anyway, I don't buy it."

"So ask Ronald about it then, Harry."

"I will."

Harry asked Ron that evening.

He would never look at a quill quite the same way again. Particularly, one Ginny Weasley was using.

* * *

For the remainder of that first day and well into the next week Blaise, Draco and Ron continued with their joke, clocking up their own points for each well aimed and well disguised reference.

In Potions Class:

"How about afresh one Lavender, you must be tired of that old quill by now." Blaise would say. (one point. Ron, laughing, threw a chocolate frog at the back of Blaise's head in response to the friendly dig, Lavender, declined the offer, being quite fond of her own tattered-around the edges quill, thanks anyway Zabini)

Ron passing Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Millicent at a table in the library:

"Pansy don't put it in your mouth like that, I don't think Draco can take it much longer." Ron would join in. (two points, Draco nearly choking, turned to Pansy who was dreamily nibbling on the end of her quill, not taking the slightest bit of notice of Ron, but blushing when she saw his housemate.)

Taking the cake, in History of Magic:

"Here Granger, have a whole box, trust me these Quills will last for _hours_ at a time and you will never want any other but mine again." Draco airily placed a box of expensive Quills on her desk, causing the other two boys to fall about laughing. (five points, Hermione sighed happily, good timing Malfoy, this Quill doesn't quite get the job done)

They each lost numerous house points, not from the quill reference (because after all, the professors had no idea) but from the disruptions their raucous laughter caused.

Their year mates were perplexed, whoever heard of a Weasley and a Malfoy _joking_ together?

* * *

At another Gryffindor study session, where Harry and Hermione had again failed to make an appearance, Seamus, Ron, Dean and Neville had been working together researching their latest potions assignment.

"Come on tell us the joke Ron!" Seamus prodded, "We feel like we are missing out here!"

"Yeah, Ron, honestly you can't keep an inside joke between you, Malfoy and Zabini. Share it with us so it isn't so _weird." _Dean added.

"I suppose you are right." Ron smiled, eyeing the girls who were nearby in the library that evening, he explained in muted tones.

Shortly Dean and Seamus were in hysterics, finally taking the double meanings of the statements that had been made over the last week. Neville, when he heard, blushed furiously and point-blank refused to take part in the game.

* * *

Very soon the game was spreading. It still remained a secret of sorts, and only two of the boys who had heard about the game refused to play. Harry and Neville, and yet both of them secretly found it hilarious, in the way that only teenage boys could.

It was certainly a welcome distraction.

"What are the stats then?" Draco asked Blaise, two weeks after the game had begun.

Blaise consulted a piece of parchment, which had been charmed to keep track of the players.

"You are winning, Ron is second, I'm third, Seamus is in fourth, Boot is in fifth. We have 17 players, made up of 5th and 6th years, 2 hufflepuffs 5 gryffindors 6 ravenclaws and 4 slytherins."

"You'd better up your game Zabini!" Draco replied with a grin.

"Oh don't you worry about me." Blaise said with a grin in his voice. "Incidentally, Draco, over half of your zingers have been at Granger and none at all at Pansy.

Draco quirked a brow. "Granger is the easiest, because she's so clueless, some of the girls, like Lavender, I swear they know what we are doing, but they like it so they play along."

"But if Granger found out, it would be over, she would go straight to Dumbledore and spill the beans, and then where will we be?"

"Maybe, but then its part of the fun. And so very satisfying to see her actually using the Quills I gave her!" Draco grinned wolfishly.

The two boys sat in companionable silence for a while.

"Draco, did you honestly mean it when you said you never…uh… gave Daphne a Quill?" Blaise ventured after a while.

Draco looked at his friend curiously.

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

Blaise bit his lip but didn't answer.

Draco smirked at him. "I see."

* * *

Every morning since she had crawled under the table, Luna had sat with Cho and Boot, ignoring her year mates in entirety, as they happily did in return.

Every morning since she had sat with Cho and Boot, she ate the muffin off Terry's plate.

Every morning since she had been eating Terry's muffin, he contemplated her, and decided he would give her as many muffins as she wanted, for as long as she wanted. He would, he reflected, even be willing to bake the bloody things for her.

Cho watched the two sadly, remembering muffins with Cedric.

Luna, for her part, stopped singing or even humming her infernal little song. But continued to thank the rafters for each muffin she was given.

Since she had stopped the singing, they didn't hit her on the head anymore.

* * *

As another library study session wound up, Neville picked up his books and shoved them tiredly into his bag. Harry had been at this one, Hermione had not. She and Lavender had barely been able stand each other lately.

"Neville, is this yours?" Seamus bent down to pick up a piece of parchment that had fluttered to the ground behind Neville.

"I don't know, don't recognise it."

"Looks like a letter." Seamus broke the green wax seal and started to read.

_Longbottom,_

_A certain Slytherin female has a bit of a thing for you, don't ask me why I think she's mad._

_She wanted me to find a discreet way to inform you of this fact, but that isn't the game I am interested in playing._

_I suggest you give her a quill._

_Malfoy_

Seamus began hooting with laughter. "Oh that's rich!" wiping the tears from his eyes. "That's at least a two-pointer for Malfoy right there! I have to tell Ron and Dean immediately"

"Let me see." Neville reached for the letter, perplexed.

Seamus left him, returning moments later with Dean and Ron in tow.

Ron grabbed the parchment from an unresisting and shell-shocked Neville.

After Ron and Dean had both read the note, and the laughter had died down, Ron looked at Neville in amusement.

"Who do you think it is Neville? You must have some idea."

Neville simply shook his head, dumbstruck.

* * *

Ron lounged in a overstuffed, red chair in the gryffindor common room, his hands behind his head, slouching in a way only the tall can accomplish with any real knack. He was thinking, wondering how on earth he had ended up on speaking terms with Malfoy, who as if by magic, didn't seem to be such a judgemental git this year. More than just on speaking terms, really. Joking terms would be more accurate. He couldn't help it, when Draco had first expressed his approval of Ron having gotten Lavender as a girlfriend, it had seemed so genuine. And for his part Ron was rather proud of himself; Lavender was a fun girl with a great sence of humour and _she_ didn't make him feel like an idiot every second they were together. Not that Hermione had been the reason for Ron to go off with Lavender, far from it, he liked Lavender for herself. It was just a nice feeling to see Hermione realising that he wasn't just her idiot red-haired friend who would be waiting for her for all eternity.

Ron frowned and shifted in his seat.

He really did _like_ Lavender alot. but it was Hermione who he saw a future with. Hermione visiting the burrow with him on christmasses to come, bringing their hordes of Weasley children with them.

He chuckled, thinking to himself that Hermione would not appreciate any hypothetical children of hers being referred to as a horde.

"Nothing wrong with having a bit of fun." he said out loud, startling a couple of 2nd years sitting on a nearby couch, who after watching him for a moment to see if anything exciting would happen, turned back to their conversation.

If nothing else, being with Lavender had accomplished for Ron the attention and jealousy of both his greatest love and his biggest enemy. He marvelled at that.

Strange bloody world.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6: Hat

Chapter 6: Hat

Pansy sat at her desk in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, twisting her hair around her fingers. Had Draco told him yet? Did he know? He hadn't so much as looked at her!

"Relax, Parkinson." Millicent said gruffly, without looking up, "He's probably scared out of his mind, thinks you might hex him if he looks at you."

Pansy made a sound.

Millicent turned to her, cocking her head. "You can bet that if he knows, being a bloody Gryffindor, won't believe it anyway. He probably thinks it's a Slytherin set-up, since everyone knows you and Malfoy are a couple."

Pansy turned to her friend indignantly, "Draco and I are _not_ a couple."

Millicent snorted gently in amusement. "Just because everyone _knows _something, it doesn't make that something a fact."

"I guess." Pansy allowed, uncertain, her eyes on the Gryffindor settling into his seat, several desks in front. "Maybe Draco _hasn't_ said anything."

"Ask him." Millicent suggested, sitting bolt upright and opening a book, "but not now, Snape just got here."

* * *

Professor Snape swished into the classroom fluidly, a customary sneer on his face. He enjoyed being DADA professor immensely. It had been a few months and he still positively _gleamed_, oily with pride.

The only real bother he had, was that his Slytherins weren't quite up to par on the subject that should have been their best. Nott and Malfoy, the only two who he had found with any existing theoretical knowledge in the new, pre-war 6th year curriculum, were behind _all_ of the Gryffindors, most of the Ravenclaws and even a few Hufflepuffs when it came to applied knowledge.

He curled his lip in disdain. Potter was not the only student in his class able to cast a Patronus. And being such an involved and difficult defensive spell, he had not expected so many to be well cast in their last applied lesson. He had been smug, however, at the dismay on Hermione Granger's face when Neville Longbottom had managed to produce a much stronger and longer lasting Patronus than her own. He had been tempted to put that one in to a pensieve.

"Open your books to chapter seven."

There were rustles as the 6th years hurried to comply, the last person to find the page, as a rule, would be made to read out loud, which, if not executed perfectly, meant house points lost and a sarcastic jibe from Professor Snape.

At least that is how it was when he had been their _Potions_ professor.

"The Patronus Charm is arguably the greatest spell you will have at your disposal when defending yourself or others against dark magic. However, it is, as you are all no doubt aware, not the easiest of spells to cast, taking a rather high physical toll on an inexperienced witch or wizard."

Snape began to stalk up and down the aisles, the students not knowing whether to keep their eyes on their books or on the professor, exchanged glances and made faces at each other when his back was to them.

"This chapter will help you prepare for such an occasion, and Miss Granger, who has no doubt read ahead, may now give us a summary of the information contained therein."

Hermione went pink around the ears, she _had _read ahead. Infernal Snape!

He turned to her expectantly, his expression emotionless, yet somehow Hermione felt him positively _drip_ with loathing.

Clearing her throat she began, "Ah, to summarise, this chapter is full of techniques to strengthen one's Patronus and spell-casting ability, specifically to increase one's stamina." She took a breath and bit her lip, waiting for the inevitable deduction of points for some unfathomable and entirely unfair reason.

Snape, however, merely turned away from her and strode in the other direction as he spoke.

"You will, in groups of three, write and present a report on Patronus strengthening techniques, which in your group, you will have attempted. You will then, in your groups, demonstrate the effects of these techniques."

Successfully quashing a smirk at the looks of dismay this elicited from his students he added,

"Each group will present three feet of parchment for the written portion. You have two weeks and you _will_ have other assignments in that time, so by all means leave it to the last minute." Snape drawled with a sour look in Ron's direction.

There were groans from the students, quickly silenced as Professor Snape glared around trying to catch them out.

Draco, the only one brave enough, raised his hand.

"Professor Snape?"

Snape quirked his eyebrow, Draco took this as an invitation to continue.

"What are the groups?"

The professor waved his wand and blank scraps of parchment appeared on each desk.

"You will write your name on these, and at random, draw them from a hat, In the interest of fairness, of course." He looked at Draco, "Mr. Malfoy, I believe you just volunteered yourself to draw the groups."

Draco nodded, not really minding, just trying to think of a way to guarantee ending up in a group up to the task.

There was silence in the room.

"_Now_, Mr. Malfoy." Snape directed.

"I don't have a hat." Draco replied, shrugging.

"Mr. Malfoy you are in 6th year, are you not? You should have a spell or two at your disposal. Or has that Malfoy resourcefulness managed to elude you also?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, catching the subtle dig at his father being imprisoned, and wondering how much Snape _really_ knew.

"No sir, I can manage."

"Good, I will return shortly. I expect a list of who is in which group on my desk."

Snape left the classroom, confident that there would be a list, literally drawn from a hat, when he returned. Another of Dumbledore's house unity ideas, Snape only agreed to have such nonsense in his classroom for the sheer amusement it would provide him. His sixth year DADA students wouldn't have taken too kindly to being made to sit with someone from another house, particularly where Gryffindor and Slytherin were involved, so to Snape, tricking them into it seemed a much better option.

The door shut as Snape swished out, leaving the students in momentary silence.

Eventually Ron turned in his seat, "Do the names have to be drawn out of a hat? Why not just mix 'em all up in the air and let them flutter about a bit and pluck 'em one by one till you have the groups assigned?"

Draco snorted. "How poetic, Weasley."

"He said a hat, Ron, and you can be sure that he means a hat." Hermione said.

"Did he mean the sorting hat, do you think?" Pansy asked, curious.

"Well we are sorting ourselves so that would make sense." Ernie agreed.

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to get that? I'm not a Gryffindor, and that bloody hat doesn't like me." Draco said, a bit petulantly.

"It won't come if you try to accio it, too far and all that." Harry said, "Besides it's in Dumbledore's room so the only way you could get it is to go ask him for it."

Draco sighed, resignedly. "Fine, so who's going to come with me then? It has to be one of you lot." He gestured at the Gryffindor students.

"I'm not going anywhere with you Malfoy." Harry said, a bit heatedly.

"I'll go with Malfoy." Hermione said primly.

"Not bloody alone you won't!" Harry responded.

Malfoy smirked, leaning back in his seat, feet on the desk.

"Relax Potty, I'm not going to give her _all_ my quills."

Harry clenched his teeth in response.

"Relax Harry," Ron echoed, "I'll go with them."

"Would somebody just bloody go? You bloody lot and your bloody dramas." Ernie Macmillan said exasperatedly, "honestly! Slytherins and Gryffindors!" he sighed loudly and rolled his eyes at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, who all smiled, the Slytherin/ Gryffindor rivalry being a bit of a joke to them after all this time. He nudged his desk mate, Terry Boot, who had not been paying the slightest bit of attention since Snape had left the room. Terry grunted in response, finding Ernie more than slightly annoying.

"Fine." Hermione said rising from her seat with a sigh, "Ron, _Malfoy_?"

The two boys got up, Draco taking his sweet time, enjoying the flickering annoyance on Hermione Granger's face.

"Relax, Harry." Neville said with a consoling pat on his friend's shoulder from across the aisle.


	7. Chapter 7: Names

Chapter 7: Names

Draco walked languidly, several paces behind Ron and Hermione, smirking to himself as he watched the rhythmic swish of Granger's backside.

Ron and Hermione, were not quite walking next to each other. Hermione primly ignored Ron, walking with her usual assurance and confidence, strode along the corridor as if she was quite alone and happily so.

Ron was shooting little glances at Hermione and moving closer so that they were walking together. It was not to be however, Hermione, still ignoring him moved away each time so that within minutes, she was so close to the cold brick wall, the fine hair on her arms and neck were beginning to stand on end.

"Ronald! Would you kindly walk _straight_!" she snapped, finally, still attempting to stride along as quickly as possible.

Ron, getting a fright as she turned to him angrily, tripped over his feet narrowly missing a headfirst appointment with the wall. He sprawled messily on the ground, tripping an unprepared Hermione, the two of them ending up in a tangle of limbs and angry faces.

Draco, for his part, began laughing hysterically, gasping for breath.

"Ron! You idiot! What _is_ your problem?" Hermione asked angrily, rubbing a bruised elbow.

"_My_ problem?" Ron raised an eyebrow as he prodded a tender spot on his head, " 'Mione, I didn't bloody do it on purpose!"

"Oh no? You kept on moving closer and closer, so that I had to move away and wound up right against the wall!" Hermione began to extricate herself.

"Hermione, what's the deal with that? I mean we never had a problem _walking_ together before. You have been so damned _touchy_ lately!" Ron said, still on the floor.

Draco, continuing to howl with laughter, leaned against the opposite wall for support.

"Touchy? _Touchy_?" Hermione focussed on Ron, ignoring Draco completely, "I'm not the bloody touchy one! Unlike some people I can keep my hands to myself!"

Draco leaned against the wall, wiping tears from his eyes as he caught his breath.

"I wasn't trying to touch you Hermione! Just because, for some reason, you are acting like if I _did _accidentally brush your hand, you would be _tainted_ or something!" Ron seemed genuinely confounded, as he stood and brushed himself off.

Hermione shot daggers at Ron, "I _would_ be bloody tainted because you are probably _covered_ in her germs!"

Draco's jaw dropped and he watched the interaction between the two Gryffindors with growing alarm.

"THAT DOES IT!" Ron roared, "You can bloody well insult me all you like, Hermione Granger, call me stupid, call me an idiot, I don't care! But I am sick to death of you having a go at Lavender for no good reason!"

"I have _plenty_ of reason! She is horrible, she's all _over_ you all of the time and it's completely disgusting!"

"Nice to know you think I'm disgusting after all the times I have stuck up for you." Ron rejoined angrily.

"Stuck up for me how? It's always Harry who defends me if someone says something nasty." She glared at Draco and continued, "Or I defend myself."

"_That's_ for sure." Draco muttered. Leaning against the cold stone wall, hands in pockets.

"_You_ can bloody well shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione turned to him.

"Don't tell him to shut up! He hasn't done anything, its all you Hermione! You are being so selfish! I've stood up for you heaps! I get a lot of flack for being your friend you know! Because of you I get called a blood traitor, and do you know _why_ that is Granger?" Ron spat, having worked himself into a rage.

Draco swallowed roughly and spoke with urgency, "Don't say it Weasley, you will regret it."

"Why is that Ronald?" Hermione, ignoring Draco entirely, asked angrily through clenched teeth her hands on her hips as she glared up at him.

"Because you are a _filthy mudblood_!"

Hermione stared at him for a moment, her lips pressed together firmly, she turned away.

Draco's eyes widened as he flicked his gaze between the two of them.

Hermione turned back suddenly, crashing her fist into Ron's face.

"So be it." She said, and stalked off, "I'll get the hat."

The two boys stared after her as she turned a corner, leaving them alone, leaning against opposite walls.

Draco swallowed, not knowing what to say.

"We should just go back to class I guess." Ron muttered.

"No way mate, you will have to get _that_ checked out by Pomfrey." Draco gestured at the rapidly darkening bruise on Ron's eye.

Ron sighed. "No I think I'll leave it. I deserved it."

Draco shrugged. "So did I, but I still went to Pomfrey."

Ron laughed shortly, "That's because you are a vain git who can't stand not being pretty for the girls."

The two began to walk back to class, Draco turned to Ron, smirking.

"Aw Ronniekins, you think I'm pretty?"

Ron snorted as Draco continued, "Besides, it will just infuriate Granger more, since chicks dig war wounds, Lavender will go mad over it."

"That seems to be the underlying problem." Ron nodded. "Maybe you are right."

Draco stopped briefly as they passed the door to the potions class, so that the 5th year girls had a perfect view of him. "I am _always_ right... At least I am when it comes to girls." He grinned as they past the classroom, "and potions."

Ron buried his head in his hands, turning to lean on the wall. "How can I take it back?"

Draco reached out his hand, patting Ron consolingly on the shoulder. "You can't."

They stood silently for a while, both in deep thought.

"Did you ever want to?" Ron asked all of a sudden, "take it back I mean."

Draco froze for a moment, unprepared, then slowly nodded.

"I couldn't though, not really."

Draco gestured down the hall and the two began to walk again.

"The first time," Draco looked apologetically at Ron, "The first time I didn't really know what I was saying, I was only _eleven _after all, and it isn't like my parents had told me it was a bad awful thing to say like yours obviously had."

Ron nodded.

"My parents said it all the time; I was brought up to think it was true. It wasn't until I began to think for myself about what it really meant that I tried to take it back."

"I don't really remember you coming over and apologising." Ron said.

"Well no, I couldn't really; it was a standard by then wasn't it?" Draco looked at Ron with seriousness, "It was expected, you know?"

Ron nodded, letting the silence grow.

"But I tried to. It was just so hard; everyone _always_ thinks I'm up to something." Draco grimaced, as he added "At the Quidditch cup, I was so worried, that _they_ would find her."

"You didn't have to warn us."

"No. I didn't" Draco answered shortly.

"You aren't a Deatheater." Ron ventured cautiously into the growing silence.

"Not yet." Draco answered grimly.

They walked in silence, each boy lost in thought. As they reached the door to the DADA classroom, Draco turned to Ron once more.

"So yes, in answer to your question, I do wish I could take it back."

Draco took a breath, then with his usual demeanour firmly back in place, strode into the classroom, adding; "Go to Pomfrey."

Ron went.

* * *

Harry looked up as Draco strode back into the classroom, he jumped to his feet in outrage when he realised Ron and Hermione weren't with him.

"Where are they Malfoy?" Harry said pointing his wand in Draco's face, "what did you do with them?"

Draco frowned, stopping in front of Harry's desk.

"Hermione is getting the hat. Ron had a run in with the wall, so he's gone to Pomfrey."

There were smothered gasps as the class digested Draco's use of Hermione and Ron's first names.

"The wall?" a puzzled Harry asked, lowering his wand.

Draco leaned forward hissing, "I'd ask them about it later if I were you Potty, they won't appreciate you airing their dirty laundry in public."

Draco straightened and returned to his seat, whispers following him. He threw himself into his seat next to Blaise. He kicked his feet up and crossed them on the desk, ignoring Blaise's inquiring looks pointedly.

Harry stared, dumbstruck at his desk. Neville leaned across the aisle and tugged on Harry's robes. Harry turned to him smiling slightly when he realised who it was.

"Sit down Harry, mate." Neville said quietly, "We will talk to Ron and Hermione later, I'm sure it will be fine. Relax."

Harry nodded and sat reluctantly.

"Bloody Drama queens the lot of you." Ernie said into the silence.

"Who asked you?"

"Shut it or I'll hex you, McMillan you idiot."

Harry and Draco answered at the same time, ignoring each other. Draco opened his DADA textbook and began to re- read chapter seven. Granger had given a pretty decent summary actually, although he thought she _had_ left out a few pertinent details. He wondered if she would be okay, she _did_ drive Ron to it. Draco bit his lip in consternation as he realised she probably thought it was his fault and his influence that Ron called her a mudblood.

Pansy leaned sideways in her seat eyeing Draco who was sitting across the aisle from her, with curiosity. She had never seen him bite his lip before in her life. She thought it was weird and prodded him in the shoulder, eliciting a grunt, but no other reaction. She frowned, then noticing an intensity creep into his gaze, looked up as Granger strode in to the classroom, with the sorting hat held in front of her. Pansy frowned again, Granger walked down the aisle and placed the sorting hat upon the desk in front of Draco, who was still reclining with his feet up.

The reverence with which she placed the hat _at_ _Malfoy's feet, _like a servant would for their master, made Pansy laugh.

Draco glanced at her.

"Ah and the humble servant returns; here is the hat you required, oh master." Pansy snarked.

Draco's mouth flickered in a small smile as he stared at a fuming Hermione with one regal eyebrow raised.

Hermione flicked her wand and the parchment pieces flew from the desks and the sorting hat turned itself on its crumpled point to catch them.

Once all the names were in the hat, Hermione spoke;

"Draw the damned names Malfoy."


	8. Chapter 8: Storms

A/N: this is a disclaimer...not mine...

I mean the disclaimer is mine... the Potterverse isn't.

Erm, carry on.

Chapter 8: Storms

"Well, what happened to _you_ Mr Weasley?" Madame Pomfrey looked up at the Red head who was lurking in her doorway, a very nasty black eye beginning to show.

"Got in a fight or something I guess." Ron muttered.

"Or something indeed. Fine example you are setting for younger students Mr. Weasley. And you a prefect? For shame. For shame." Madame Pomfrey took Ron's arm and lead him to a bed. She gestured impatiently.

Ron looked at her in horror. "I don't have to get into bed for a black eye do I?"

"Of course not silly boy, just sit, I will be right back with something for that bruise."

Ron perched obligingly on the end of the bed, his eye throbbing simultaneously with his head and his heart.

He wished he could take it back. He wished and he wished and yet he knew it had happened. He had said it. He had called the love of his life the worst possible thing he possibly could have thought of.

Ron groaned. He felt ill. What would Harry say? Would Hermione ever talk to him again?

If only she hadn't said such horrible things about Lavender. Ron had never known Hermione to say such horrible things, so he hadn't realised that he would, in turn, say a horrible thing to her.

_Mudblood._

Of all the things! Ron sighed, he realised suddenly that it was probably the only thing he _could_ have said to hurt her. Before he could stop himself, there were tears streaming down his freckled face. And, quite naturally, Madame Pomfrey chose this moment to return. She did not comment on the tears however.

"Alright, drink this up, there's a good lad." Madame Pomfrey uncorked a small vial and passed it to Ron, who took it without comment, tears still helplessly streaming down his face.

* * *

"Hermione."

"Hermione?"

"Hermione!"

Hermione sat quietly, distracted, her head down. She hadn't eaten a thing. Her friends, Neville, Harry and Ginny were each trying to get her attention.

"Pass the salt would you, Lav?" Dean asked casually.

Hermione's head shot up. Lavender. It was all her _fault_. She sneered at the girl who was innocently eating her dinner. Lavender obligingly passed him the salt and then went back to her conversation with Pavarti. She twirled her hair in her fingers. Oh how Hermione wanted to tear the girl's hair out right then! Perfect blonde hair, so tame, so shiny, so… so…

_Blonde._

Harry caught the glare on Hermione's usually calm, happy face. She muttered under her breath.

"That was very…" Harry paused, disturbed, "_Malfoy_ of you, Hermione, what is wrong? Talk to us!"

_Malfoy_. Hermione grit her teeth, her grimace causing Harry to withdraw in horror. It was all _Malfoy's_ fault! Neville looked at Harry helplessly; a still silent Hermione ignored them both, stewing with rage. She looked across the tables at Malfoy. He was clutching a letter and muttering with a dark expression on his face, nearby Slytherins eyeing him warily.

Wrath of Draco? _Please! _Hermione knew nothing could compare to her own brand of rage. She snorted and glared at everyone.

"Hermione! Where is Ron?" Lavender turned towards Hermione suddenly, catching her off guard.

Bloody _Ronald Weasley_! It was his fault! Why couldn't he just…? Why didn't he…?

"How should I bloody know?" she retorted.

"Well apart from Malfoy you were the last one to see him." Harry answered warily. "I checked with Madame Pomfrey before dinner, but he wasn't there anymore."

"Uh, Maybe Ron didn't feel so good, so he's probably lying down or something." Neville said hurriedly at the expression on Hermione's face. "I'm sure its no problem, right Harry?" Neville gave his friend a _look._

"Yeah, Malfoy said that he had run into a wall or something, so he is probably a bit achy." Dean agreed his mouth full.

"Maybe Malfoy hit him!" Seamus joked, not catching the warning glances of Neville and Harry.

"Not likely to do much damage, _Malfoy_ hits like a girl!" Dean laughed, "hey, maybe _Hermione_ hit him!"

Hermione bit her lip. She _had_ hit him. _Hard. _But how could anyone blame her? It _was_ his fault! Not surprising he didn't have the guts to see her at dinner. Hermione stared at her plate, then suddenly and violently speared a carrot with her fork, wishing it was Ron's head.

"Don't be stupid, Dean. Hermione only hits Malfoy!" Seamus replied, adding wistfully, "I _really_ wish I had been there!"

Ginny, who had been watching her friend with concern, spoke quietly, changing the subject.

"Hey, Hermione? I'm having a bit of trouble with my Ancient Runes assignment? Maybe you could help me in the library after dinner?"

That's where Ron wouldn't be, the_ library_. Hermione sniffed. Okay so maybe she didn't want to face him either.

"Yes, Ginny fine, I'll help you in the library." Hermione answered vaguely.

Ginny beamed, Harry shot her a grateful smile. He knew something was terribly _wrong_.

* * *

Luna was unusually quiet that evening. Terry watched her with concern.

"Luna?" he spoke tentatively.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay? Is there something wrong?" Terry cocked his head.

Luna blinked at him owl-like. Then realising he was checking her over like a worried mother-hen, spoke soothingly.

"Oh! No not with me, I am fine." She paused, "It's just, well here we are, in the eye of the storm, it's so calm and nice and wonderful, Terry."

"Storm?" Terry asked.

"Yeah, over there," Luna gestured at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was glaring heatedly at everyone and anyone. "And over there". She nodded at the Gryffindors.

Terry turned to see Hermione Granger spearing a carrot with her fork, he watched as her friends recoiled from her. He shrugged turning back to Luna, who was staring at him in wide-eyed seriousness.

"What have they got to do with us?" he asked genuinely perplexed. "And what is this about a storm?"

"A Storm will pass." She answered, "But leaves destruction in its wake."

"Okay." Terry said soothingly, patting her arm. "It's alright."

Luna nodded, seemingly satisfied, returning to her meal.

Terry watched her for a moment, but she said no more about storms.

He turned to look behind him at the Gryffindors again, frowning. He wondered where Ron was.

* * *

Ron, surprisingly, was in the library.

He sat at a table, with a large stack of books in front of him. Taking notes furiously. He had to find a way. And Hermione always said the answers were there to be found if only one looked hard enough.

He hoped she was right. He hoped he could find a way to take it back. Realising the time, and knowing with certainty that his housemates and friends would soon be heading his way for their usual study session, he gathered the books he needed and made his way out the door. There was no Slug Club meeting tonight, so he figured Hermione would probably end up in the library too.

He fingered his eye thoughtfully. No, not yet. He would speak to her tomorrow.

As Ron entered the still empty common room he spoke to himself out loud, trying to distract himself.

"I wonder which group I ended up in?"


	9. Chapter 9: Letter

A/N: this one is quite long...I think thats a good thing, I mean these two just kept on talking and talking and talking...

Chapter 9: Letters

"That _bloody_ hat!" Malfoy spat, pacing with obvious frustration in the near-empty Slytherin common room. "I hope Professor Snape is _bloody_ happy!"

Blaise followed Malfoy's pacing with his dark eyes. He lounged on one of the over stuffed couches in front of the unlit fireplace in the near-empty common room, stifling the occasional shivers that the cold dungeon room was in no way responsible for. Draco's return to pure Malfoy had been sudden and complete, like a vortex he had immediately begun to suck the warmth from Blaise Zabini, both in relation to his actual physical temperature and in his regard for the blond Slytherin.

"Draco, pardon my noticing, but you weren't this upset when the names were drawn, in fact it wasn't until you received an owl, from whom I can only assume to be your father, at dinner, that you began to," the boy paused, searching for a word, "react."

Malfoy didn't pause in his increasingly frantic pacing, to answer "I am not going to tell you what was in the letter, Zabini, so do _not_ even _bloody_ ask."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Blaise responded airily examining his fingernails. "Just an observation really."

Malfoy snarled.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. There was silence in the room.

"It can't be all that bad, really. Ron and Granger, Ron is your friend and Granger…well," he paused leaning back, Malfoy glared at him, Blaise continued, "She practically guarantees getting a good mark. Much better odds than I have in my group with Lavender and Pansy."

"You have no idea, Zabini."

"I'm not a legillimens, Malfoy."

Malfoy stopped pacing at that and looked searchingly at Blaise's exasperated face.

"Yes?" Blaise eventually said into the silence, uncomfortable with the cool regard of his year mate.

Seeming to reach a decision, Malfoy reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded letter he had earlier received. He clutched it firmly in his pale, elegant fingers, and simply looked at Blaise.

"You want me to read it?" Blaise asked.

"No."

"You want me to _want _to read it." Blaise stated, knowingly.

"Something like that." Malfoy admitted grudgingly.

Blaise nodded, looking away in an attempt to hide his eagerness. "I'm not the curious type, so I'm hardly going to pander to your desire for me to beg you."

"Read the damned letter!" Malfoy snarled dropping it in Zabini's lap.

"Alright Draco, since you asked nicely." Blaise smirked, flicking the parchment straight.

_D.M,_

_I trust this missive finds you well. _

_Lack of communication has caused some concern here at home. _

_A date must be set as there are other arrangements that must be made to coincide with events on your end. The time for procrastination has passed. You will not find failure agreeable._

_If all goes well, as it no doubt will, a ceremony in which your presence is required is scheduled for the day following you reaching your majority._

_Your mother sends her regards, your father does not._

_B.L_

"What on earth?" Blaise looked at Draco, "Cryptic much?"

"It has to be." Draco replied darkly.

"Who is B.L?"

"Family," Draco glanced towards his friend, "on my mother's side."

Blaise's eyes widened, "you mean Bel-"

Draco cut him off, "Precisely, the very fact that a message has been sent to me, puts me at risk, she's completely mad."

There was a deep, foreboding silence. Blaise surveyed the troubled expression on his friend's face, and cast a silencing spell around the two of them. No-one would hear what he had to say next except Draco.

"A Ceremony," Blaise gulped, "Perhaps one involving a mark?"

"Are you truly so dense? Of course that is what it is referring to!" Draco sneered. "I have a task, as a _Malfoy_, it is my duty to complete it."

"As a Malfoy," Blaise repeated slowly, "And as Draco?"

"It is the same thing." Draco shrugged, waving his hand.

"No it isn't."

"I _am_ Draco Malfoy."

"You wouldn't be sharing any of this with me unless you wanted to get out of it, Draco and before you go insane like your letter-writing relative here, think about it, is this what you really want?"

Draco began pacing again in frustration.

"_Of_ course it-"

"If it truly is, you wouldn't have bothered saying anything about it. Malfoy would have gone on and done whatever it is you have been told to do. _Draco_, now that's another thing, Draco would feel trapped and alone and may even be asking his friend for help?"

"You speak as if I am two different people." Draco said in exasperation. "I repeat; I am _Draco Malfoy_."

"At _least_ two different people." Blaise confirmed, "I am just generalising really, but look at this whole thing with Ron Weasley, _Malfoy_ would never be friends with a _blood traitor_, Draco, well he's a bit more of an enigma."

"You think I am an enigma?"

"No. Right now you are being Malfoy. So you are pretty much an insufferable bastard with a whopping superiority complex who suffers from spoilt-brat syndrome."

"I'm not a bloody spoilt-brat!" Malfoy responded, a bit petulantly. "This is bloody serious!"

"I know, but like I said," Blaise sighed patiently, "Draco wants my help, but it is Malfoy who is asking, so until Draco actually shows up and decides to respect me as a friend, Malfoy can go suck eggs."

Draco grit his teeth, the conflicting emotions of anger and confusion apparent on his face.

"And before Malfoy wins out and decides to hex me, I'm going to ask Draco what the hell any of this has to do with the groups for the Patronus assignment?"

"_What_?" Draco responded, off-balance, the confusion evident on his face. "It doesn't have anything to do with it!"

Blaise shrugged, waiting. He knew the best way to avoid the wrath of Draco was simply to switch subjects and keep him on his toes.

Draco sighed and flopped down on the couch next to Blaise.

"It's complicated, then?" Blaise asked turning towards his friend.

Draco made a vague noise which Blaise took for agreement.

"So tell me, mate." Blaise ventured, kindly.

"When we went for the hat, there was a…an altercation." Draco started.

"Granger hit you again?" Blaise asked with a grin, still wishing he had been there to witness the last time.

"No, not me, she hit Ron." Draco didn't rise to the bait, a fair indication of his distraction.

"Ron? But the girl is totally in love with him why would she hit him?"

Draco clenched his teeth at this, but answered anyway, burning holes in the rug at his feet intently.

"He called her a mudblood."

"What? Why?" Blaise asked, not having expected this.

"She was harping on about Lavender, insulting her, generally making her jealousy known and what have you." Draco, explained, "I guess all these years of my calling her _that_ meant that Ron knew it was what would most hurt her."

"I never thought it bothered her that much, she always seemed too intelligent to let it get to her."

"Oh it got to her alright, because it was Ron, the only Pureblood she would never have expected it from." Draco said with a touch of bitterness creeping into his voice.

"So you working with them is going to be a problem solely because they had a lovers' spat."

"It's more than a bloody spat, and they aren't bloody lovers!" Draco responded a bit hotly.

Blaise raised an eyebrow and quirked his lips in response, choosing not to say anything.

Ignoring him Draco took a breath and continued, "She probably thinks it's my influence, my fault that he said it in the first place."

"That's pretty selfish Draco; it hasn't really got a lot to do with you, its Ron's fault, and Granger's fault. Sure you were there, and yes you will have to deal with it in order to get your assignment done, but you are relatively blameless here."

"How is it selfish? It's most likely true!" Draco sputtered indignantly.

"Because, in the last year you haven't said anything horrible to Granger, and yet there hasn't been any real thaw in her regard for you. She's polite, and hasn't seemed to mind about you and Ron becoming friends, but the hate just isn't there anymore. And you miss it, you miss being able to elicit such a passionate reaction from her, even one of hate and anger."

"What are you bloody well trying to say, Zabini!" Draco said hotly, sitting up straight and clenching his fists.

"Just let them handle it. Be there for Ron if he needs your help, but otherwise stay out of it." Blaise responded hurriedly, realising he might be pushing the wrong buttons. "Besides you have this other issue to deal with."

Draco did not relax; he continued to stare at his friend, eyes narrowed.

"What did it mean here, in the letter where it says; '_your mother sends her regards, your father does not.' _Why did she add that in there?"

Draco accepted the abrupt subject change this time, with resignation.

"She hates my father; it is a reminder that he is currently, indisposed. And with my mother, well I'm not entirely sure why she would say that mother sends regards, I got an owl from her last week."

The two Slytherins sat in silence. Draco shivered, and with a quick spell, set a roaring fire in the fireplace in front of them. Blaise, surprised at this, shrugged it off and basked in the warmth for several moments, thinking.

Draco, a pensive expression on his face, mused out loud.

"I wonder if I can get away with just ignoring it a little while longer?."

"What are we ignoring?"

"That task I spoke of." Draco said grudgingly, when he realised he had spoken out loud.

"So, are you going to tell me what this task is?"

"I can't."

"Alright." Blaise responded immediately, "why not?"

"I don't know how to tell you, I don't know how you will react and I don't know what will happen if I tell you." Draco said quickly.

"Okay, scared of the unknown, I respect that." Blaise nodded, "at least tell me, are you going to do it? Whatever 'it' is, I mean."

Draco looked at his friend, annoyed.

"Firstly, Zabini, it isn't the unknown I am scared of, it is the Dark Lord. Secondly," Draco sighed, "I don't know if I am going to do it."

"Do you have to kill someone?" Blaise asked suddenly.

Draco didn't trust himself to speak, his silence spoke for him, however.

"Who?" Blaise asked.

Draco looked at his boots unhappily, still saying nothing.

"Not Ron!" Blaise said suddenly, "you can't have been pretending to be his friend, just so that you can murder him!"

Blaise stood and began pacing, losing himself in the concept. Draco's eyes widened as Blaise continued, "Although it would be a serious blow to the Order, to anyone opposing the Dark Lord, since most of them _are_ Weasleys after all. And what a blow to Potter, he would lose a lot of heart, and would be seriously weakened by such a thing."

"Perhaps _you_ should be the bloody junior Deatheater." Draco replied, sarcastically. "As annoying as I find that bloody family, they haven't got much to do with this at all," he paused, watching his friend for a reaction, "apart from the fact that they are on the same side as Dumbledore."

Blaise stopped pacing and turned to Draco with a mixture of horror and awe on his face.

"_Dumbledore?_" He said incredulously, "_Headmaster Dumbledore?"_

Draco nodded helplessly.

"They think you are up to the task of killing _him_, of all people? What on earth have they been teaching you to make them think you could manage that?"

"I could manage it, if I wanted to!" Draco responded, offended.

"Do you want to?"

"No, you complete idiot! That's why I'm having this ridiculous conversation with you! I don't_ like_ Dumbledore, but I don't want him to die."

Blaise let out a sigh of relief. Slumping on the couch once more he spoke in muted tones.

"Draco, this is insane, you have to tell Dumbledore about this. He will protect you; maybe even orchestrate a way for you to fail in an attempt to actually do it, so that _they _think you are on their side still"

"If I fail, I die." Draco responded, ignoring any talk of which side he may or may not be on.

"And if you succeed…" Blaise drifted off helplessly.

"If I succeed, Dumbledore will be dead, and I will be a Deatheater, just like my father, who is in prison, and my aunt, who is insane."

"Some bright prospects you have there." Blaise responded. "Alright, so forgetting about what will happen if you do go through with it, what about if you don't? What if you tell Dumbledore, or maybe Snape, and just let them deal with it."

"Snape?" Draco asked in disbelief, "oh sure great idea there, because the fact that he is a _Deatheater_ himself isn't going to come back and bite me in the ass _at all_."

"Ask him for help then, just see what he says about it."

"I'd _not_ bloody need help to get it done, Zabini!"

The fire crackled into the silence. Blaise sighed, suddenly overwhelmed by it all. He wondered how Draco felt and whether Malfoy would win out and attempt it. He decided to wind the conversation up, he needed some time to think about how _he_ was going to deal with this, should it actually come about.

"Okay so they want you to kill someone." Blaise said.

It isn't only that, I'm supposed to find a way, to _let them in_."

"That's insane! A lot of students would die!" Blaise responded, immediately understanding. "That sounds like the difficult part anyway, and even if you could, in theory, kill someone, Draco, I don't know if you could break through the wards around Hogwarts."

"I've tried. Nothing has worked so far. But I think I might be sabotaging myself anyway, it is hard to tell."

"Fine." Blaise said heavily, getting off the couch slowly. "I need to think, and to sleep on this. I guess I'm involved now, whether I like it or not."

Malfoy suddenly turned on Zabini drawing his wand, "_Don't_ betray me."

"And feel the 'Wrath of Draco'? Are you _kidding_?" Blaise turned away holding his breath, hoping that his unpredictable friend would put his wand down, "_Draco_ can trust me."

"There's a first time for everything." Draco answered, tired now.

"And just act like the thing with the sorting hat and the Gryffindors didn't happen at all for now; you really, _really_ don't need to involve yourself in that as well."

"Here's to a future for Zabini as an advice columnist in the Daily Prophet." Draco snorted in response.

"I'm more of a Quibbler kind of guy, night Draco."

Draco idly toyed with his wand as Blaise left the room. Alone, he suddenly remembered something Blaise had said. He spoke aloud, his voice echoing of the stone walls, "The 'Wrath of Draco'? What on earth is that supposed to mean?"


	10. Chapter 10 Avoidance

_A:N i'm still getting used to the formatting, so I apologise if it is or has been a bit iffy..._

* * *

Chapter 10: Avoidance

"Oy, Ron, get up!"

Ron mumbled into his pillow, his blankets twisted around his prone body. Daylight was peeking into the dorm room, watching with bright interest.

"Ron, mate. Ten minutes until breakfast!" Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and shook him roughly.

There was silence.

Harry glanced at Neville, who was sitting on his own bed putting on his shoes, with disbelief.

"Breakfast." Harry said, "Breakfast, Ron!"

"Muffins, Ron." Neville added helpfully.

Ron groaned, his face muffled into his pillow.

"Do you think he might be ill?" Harry turned to Neville in concern. "He _never_ misses breakfast by choice!'"

"Maybe he isn't quite recovered from running into the wall or whatever it was yesterday." Neville mused.

"Maybe." Harry agreed doubtfully.

Ron mumbled something.

"What?" Neville leaned forward, "we didn't catch that mate."

Ron lifted his head just enough so that air could pass between his face and the pillow, his eyes squinted shut. "I said, sod off."

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes in frustration. Neville stood, adjusting his robes, glancing at Harry in consternation.

"Don't be a bloody idiot, what happened, did Lavender dump you or something?" Harry said, exasperated.

Without speaking, and somehow without moving all that much, Ron simply chucked his pillow at his friend and covered his head with his blanket in one smooth movement. Harry ducked; the pillow hit a slightly stunned Neville with a gentle thud.

"Well," Neville said a bit frostily, after a moment, "We are going to breakfast, so, I guess do what you want to do Ron."

Ron didn't respond.

Harry waited for another moment. When it was evident that his friend wasn't going to move, he kicked Ron's discarded pillow in frustration before following Neville from the dorm.

Daylight flooded the room in one final effort to rouse the boy. Ron fumbled under the covers for a moment, his arm bursting from under the blanket. His fingers walked over the bedside table until they found what he was looking for.Ron flicked his wand at the curtains; they twitched guiltily and drew shut. Daylight, knowing it was beat, withdrew sulkily. Ron didn't want anyone to see the tears coursing down his freckled face, even if it meant missing breakfast. His stomach grumbled at him. Ron sniffed; he'd get something brought up by the house elves later.

* * *

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, in greeting when he and Neville stepped into the Common room.

"Oh she will be down soon, she said." Ginny answered with a smile, "Revising something I expect."

Pavarti nodded in agreement, to Ginny's statement.

Lavender craned her neck to see if Ron was behind the two boys.

"Where's Ron?" she asked.

"Oh," Harry made a face and looked at Neville, who smiled weakly. "He's not coming to breakfast, he isn't feeling well."

"Oh! Poor Won-Won!"

Neville made a face and glanced at Harry, "I would leave him be if I were you Lav, he isn't in the best mood. We will see him later anyway."

"Oh, okay." Lavender said, obviously a bit put out.

"We are going to be late for breakfast!" Ginny said impatiently, hovering around the portrait hole.

"Let's go then." Pavarti said nodding.

"Wait for me!" Hermione jogged down the stairs, her book bag bouncing on one hip.

"Thought you weren't coming?" Harry asked her curiously as the group of friends passed into the hallway.

"Oh no I just had to…revise a few things." Hermione responded with a smile that didn't quite touch her eyes. "I heard you say something about Ron?"

"He isn't coming down to breakfast, Hermione." Neville answered her.

"Oh. Okay." Hermione said, trying to hide her obvious relief at this statement.

Harry looked at her curiously, deciding his friends were acting decidedly _weird_ lately. He figured they would talk to him when they were ready. Shrugging, he stepped forward to walk next to Neville on their way down to the Great Hall.

Ginny surveyed Hermione with equal curiosity.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had been waiting upstairs, to see if Ron was going to breakfast, and when you realised he wasn't going, you decided you would go after all." Ginny said in a low voice, in Hermione's ear, "But of course that would be silly, and of course I know better than to think Hermione Granger would be so silly and immature."

Hermione flinched visibly.

Ginny nodded, satisfied. "You know Hermione, if there is something wrong, it might be a good idea to talk to your friends about it."

"I'm not sure you would believe me if I did tell you Gin," Hermione smiled sadly, "besides, I think I might have deserved it."

The group of 6th years, and Ginny, reached the Gryffindor table and took their seats, Ginny next to Hermione.

"Deserved what?" she asked in alarm.

Hermione only sighed, staring at her plate until Ginny prodded her.

"Gin, I'm not really ready to talk about it, but I will come to you, when I am, okay."

"Alright Hermione." Ginny said, patting her friend on the arm in concern.

* * *

By the time Divination rolled around the following afternoon, Harry had belatedly realised that something was off between Ron and Hermione. Both had shown up to classes the other wasn't in, but neither to classes where the other would be present. Divination of course, was a class Hermione did not and would never choose to take. But Ron was there, his face pale and blotchy, dark circles under his eyes.

Ron approached his friends, taking his normal seat with Harry and Neville, not saying anything. Harry and Neville exchanged glances. Ron still hadn't said anything about what was bothering him. He hadn't apologised for the previous morning either. Not sure whether he should say anything, Harry just sat in silence, a wounded expression on his face.

The class passed in a blur for Harry, who looked into teacups when obliged to, making up mumbo-jumbo when approached by the Professor. Most of the time, he simply stared at Ron, wondering what on earth might have happened.He was shaken from his reverie when a piece of parchment flew gracefully over to their table, landing in front of a dejected looking Ron. He turned towards a table several over, where Draco Malfoy sat with his cronies and his girlfriend.

Draco was ignoring Harry and watching Ron expectedly. Harry looked at Ron curiously, watching him as he blinked, unfurling the parchment. Harry peaked over Ron's shoulder and began to read;

_Weasley,_

_You were in second place in our little game, you have dropped to sixth. I'm disappointed since that now means that your idiot friend Seamus is in second place, Blaise of course is a bit put out by that. It was bad enough that you were beating him, but he reckons you don't count as a Gryffindork since you were one of the original players. _

_Look__, I know you are distracted but I think I have an idea that might solve your little problem. _

_I'd write it here but I'm sure Potter is reading over your shoulder and it's none of his business._

_In fact I bet you haven't even told him yet have you?_

Harry blinked in confusion, how could Malfoy know what was going on when he didn't? When did his best friend stop telling him things? He looked back down at the note, but Ron had already finished reading it and was writing a reply. Harry shrugged and looked at Neville, who returned his gaze with a helpless expression on his face.

* * *

_In fact I bet you haven't even told him yet have you?_

Ron eyed, Harry who had indeed been reading over his shoulder. He adjusted the parchment so that Harry couldn't see and finished reading quickly;

_Well, I don't k now if you should, he might hex you and then everyone will blame me for breaking up the golden trio._

_Anyway, we still have to do this assignment, so maybe you might be able to talk to Granger about when the three of us can actually work on it. If you can't, I guess I could ask her in Ancient Runes, which is our next class together. _

_For what it's worth I'm sorry._

_Don't tell anyone I apologised to a Weasley or I'll actually let Potter hex you._

_Draco_

Ron sighed; he didn't think he could face Hermione, her doe eyes could hold more steel and flint than Malfoy himself with _his_ patentedcold gaze. He had no idea how to say sorry for such a big thing. Sighing again Ron flicked his wand, clearing the words on the parchment; he flicked his quill and began to write a reply;

_Draco,_

_I don't think I can say anything to her._

_Maybe you could send her a note in your next class, since then she would HAVE to approach me about it. _

_What is your idea? I don't think apologising will be enough._

_You are right I haven't told Harry, because he will never ever forgive me, even if she does._

_Besides I deserve to be hexed._

_Ron_

_P.S See the smile on Lavender's face? Just because you haven't seen her get a quill, it doesn't mean I haven't given her one lately._

Ron not knowing the charm Draco had done to send the note to him, settled for making something called a plane like Hermione had shown him. He threw it when Trelawney was distracted. He grinned wryly to himself noting she was _always_ distracted. Lavender leaned forward just then, tapping him on the shoulder, he turned to see a concerned expression on her face.

"I'll talk to you after class, Lav," Ron said hurriedly, glancing at his tablemates, who were both pretending not to be paying any attention, "its okay, everything is fine."

Lavender smiled gently, relieved, sitting back in her seat.


	11. Chapter 11: Courtyard

Chapter 11: Courtyard

Luna sat in the courtyard, listening to the birds singing a duet with the wind. It was quiet sheltered where she was sitting; she stared at the overcast sky in wonderment. She decided the birds were trying to convince themselves that it was a nice day, not the dreary, windy weather of reality. It was a good idea really, Luna thought smiling beatifically. The day is what you make it after all.

Luna tipped her head back, blonde waves hanging loose. Her hands pressed against the cold stone of the bench she sat on. She looked at the forming clouds above her. A dragon swirled in cloudy wisps, surrounded by roaring lions.A sudden crack of thunder silenced the warble of unseen birds. The nearby trees began dancing violently. Luna's smile grew wider.

Rain began to fall in gentle drops, anointing the girls forehead in what she felt was a blessing. Refreshed and inspired she began to sing, her voice uniting with the roaring wind and the whistling trees, in a crescendo of nature.

* * *

Draco, walking to his next class was lost in thought. Weaving through a group of second years, who he normally would have taken time to glare at, he hurried along, ignoring their looks of apprehension. He had an hour or so before his Ancient Runes class, those year mates who were not in his Ancient Runes class would be heading in the other direction, to their Muggle Studies class. He snorted, why anyone would actually choose that class was beyond him. He was heading to his class early, intending to go over his text book, and think about what to say to Granger.

He stepped outside and realised that a storm was beginning. He loved spring storms, the sheer unpredictability of them. They were contradictable in ways which he also saw himself to be; violent and gentle, beautiful and destructive, temperate and cold, nature at its finest. He grinned maniacally, knowing he was a vain bastard.

He stepped into the courtyard, feeling the needles of rain on his face. He breathed deeply, the air tasted heavier, more alive. The day was beginning to darken, but he saw clearly, the odd little fifth year sitting on the bench in front of him. She was one of Potters friends, sort of. He knew she had been in that stupid group the year before, knew she had been at the department of mysteries; that she had seen his father more recently than he himself had. He smiled grimly at that thought, deciding, on an impulse, to go sit with her.

He strode towards her, a glint of heat in his icy eyes. Luna gave him the barest of glances, her face still turned up to the sky. Her fluffy hair, so similar in colour to his own, was raised in a halo, static heavy in the air. He realised suddenly that she was actually _singing_. He couldn't really hear her; the wind was so gusty, drowning her out with its bellowing. Last few times he had heard her singing, in the Great Hall, he had thrown his muffin at her in frustration, had she realised that her singing had carried all the way to the Slytherin table? He swore she had been looking at him when he threw it!

Not having any muffins to throw at her, he sat next to her on the cold stone, with a devil-may-care grin; he raised his voice to join hers. They weren't singing the same song, neither could hear the other, but then it didn't matter.

Draco felt a little crazy, but it didn't seem to matter. He figured you could be crazy with crazy people, they didn't mind as much as everyone else.

* * *

A sudden flash of lightening, splitting a nearby tree shocked the two out of their reverie. Luna shrieked, then startled at her own reaction, turned to stare owlishly at the Malfoy next to her. The tree burst into joyous flames, Malfoy grabbed her hand and the two ran pell-mell to the cover of the walkways. Breathing heavily, elated at their defiance in the face of the storm, the two eyed each other.

"I have Ancient Runes now." Draco ventured.

"Potions." Luna nodded once in agreement.

"Alright then."

Hesitantly Draco turned away walking towards his class, his wet robes sticking to him in dark sheets.

Luna watched him go, curiously.

It was only when Draco turned the corner stepping into the dry corridor that he realised that Luna hadn't been wet _at all._

* * *

"Malfoy!" Hermione stared in alarm at the Slytherin when he stepped into the near empty Ancient Runes classroom.

Not having expected to be confronted with her so quickly, Draco merely stared at her, blinking.

"Are you an idiot? You are soaking wet!" Granger looked at him demandingly.

Not knowing what she expected of him he merely shrugged, unsure why she wasn't being a horrible bitch, considering everything. Exasperated Hermione rolled her eyes, performing a quick drying spell on the slightly crazed looking Malfoy standing in front of her. Draco blinked, seemingly coming back to himself.

"Ah-" he fumbled, "thank you, Hermione."

Hermione widened her eyes in response.

"I mean, Granger."

"You are welcome, Draco," she said deliberately, narrowing her eyes at him, adding calmly, "I mean Malfoy."

He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. She turned back to her open text book, equally as uncomfortable.

"When should we do the Patronus assignment?" Draco blurted out hurriedly, cursing his lack of tact, but realising it was easier than making small talk with a girl like her.

Raising an eyebrow Hermione shut her book with a snap, and turned to him, her unfathomable dark eyes on the tall Slytherin in front of her.

"Is tomorrow alright with you, in the library after dinner?"

"Yes. I mean, I don't know his schedule, but assuming Ron is free."

Hermione snorted inelegantly. Sitting himself in the desk behind her Draco raised an eyebrow at that.

"Ronald Weasley doesn't partake in any extra curricular activities apart from _Quidditch_." She turned in her seat and looked at the blond behind her, "that is the day after tomorrow, assuming the weather isn't like this."

Draco nodded, hiding how offended he was at her insinuation that Quidditch didn't count for much.

"And Friday is Slug Club anyway, so I can't do it then." She continued, "And I assume you won't want to waste a Hogsmeade weekend that you could be spending with your _girlfriend_with a couple of Gryffindors."

Frowning at the mention of the Slug Club, Draco nearly missed the rest of her answer.

"Girlfriend? Oh you mean Pansy!" Draco waved his hand dismissively, at the thought, "Besides, Ron is my friend; it wouldn't bother me terribly to spend time with him on the weekend."

She snorted again.

"You are welcome to him, Draco Malfoy."

They glared at each other in silence.

"Fine, Thursday after dinner, it is then."

"Good," Hermione turned back to her book. Oh, and Draco?"

Startled at the use of his first name again, this time spoken unintentionally, he responded without any trace of Malfoyishness whatsoever.

"Yes?"

"Tell the Weasel, will you?"


End file.
